


Runs in the Lineage

by Project0506



Series: Soft Wars [88]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Family, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:08:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24334855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/pseuds/Project0506
Summary: Mace allows himself to be persuaded out of the office, even if Caleb is uniquely terrible at the persuading.For#MaceWinduAppreciationDayon Tumblr
Relationships: Mace Windu & Caleb Dume
Series: Soft Wars [88]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683775
Comments: 79
Kudos: 667





	Runs in the Lineage

**Author's Note:**

> Huh I actually made this happen. I deserve a brownie.

Eventually they send Caleb in.

The inherent problem in that, Mace muses as Caleb putters stiffly around his office in a parody of childish nonchalance, is that Caleb lacks the experience for this sort of infiltration. Oh he’s precious, make no mistake about that. But when he’s ordered to look cute deliberately he promptly forgets every tool at his disposal.

He hasn’t even tried a wide grin _once_ and Mace is well aware he’s short a cuspid right now. Hasn’t even considered that he could probably get away with faking a lisp. Mace blames Commander Grey. Ponds knows how to play up emotions and Depa has been smiling sweetly over things she wants as long as Mace has known her. Clearly Commander Grey must be at fault.

“How long did Depa say you had to keep this up?”

“She said I’m supposed to use my best judgment, or until you cave like damp flimsi. Whichever.” Immediate reply, no prevarication. Just Depa, a speeding swoopbike, and the chucking of the former under the latter.

It _must_ be Commander Grey’s influence, that cultivated this overwhelming brutal honesty in Caleb. It can't have been Mace himself: he doesn't remember being _nearly_ as direct at that age. And Depa's bluntness has always been ringed with sweetness. No, this is a result of the boy being raised at least partially with military values.

The boy pretends he's relaxed but he's standing At Ease, crossed wrists and all. Mace tries hard to hide his amusement.

Caleb glances suspicion from the corner of his eyes but keeps his head turned to the stone inset bookshelves that line one wall of Mace's office. That’s where Ponds has staged paper records of eight hundred year old contracts that Mace will need to reference for tomorrow’s budget meeting. Mace can't hardly summon up interest in them himself, so severely doubts Caleb’s.

“And what are you gaining from this endeavor?”

Caleb. Sighs. Groans, grunts, moans, makes the _most_ aggrieved two and a half seconds of noise Mace has ever had the pleasure of witnessing. He wants to applaud, really. If only Caleb’s skills at theatrics came on demand!

“Padawans are, as always, free to choose not to support their Masters in accomplishing incredibly vital and dearly-held personal goals,” he recites with the glorious air of tragic theater. “But Padawans who do so may find themselves _stared at sadly_ by everyone they know for _hours_ until they give in.”

Ah, so Depa had attempted to give him a demonstrative object lesson and Caleb had failed to grasp such. Poor Depa.

Mace doesn’t manage to hold all of his smile away. ‘May you have Padawans as difficult as you were’ indeed. It still doesn’t make up for the painful weeks Mace spent learning how to weave braids, but it’s a start.

“I have one more report to review,” he offers. “Let me finish that in peace, then we can escape whatever misfortune my old Padawan has planned for both of us after this.”

“Ponds cooked,” Caleb agrees, face twisted in understandable dismay. Ponds takes a very creative view of recipe directions. His results tend to be memorable. “But they’re all lying in wait. I think they’re trying to set you up again. Ahsoka says it’s Mr. Hondo this time but I think she might have been teasing.”

Force save all of them, because yes Depa _would_.

She’s been taking the ‘Ohnaka Express’ much more often recently, getting herself ‘kidnapped’ after her missions from wherever she was assigned that Jedi aren’t strictly supposed to be, and being ‘ransomed’ back to Mace on the edges of Republic space.

Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence. Eight times is plot.

The ransom handovers are taking longer. The last one had happened over a surprisingly nice meal. Mace had managed to spend nearly a quarter of it not viciously annoyed, and the headache of dealing with Ohnaka barely lasted an hour afterwards. Trust Depa to determine that to be as good as interest.

“The report can wait,” Mace decides. He flips the holopads cluttering the top of his desk into locked drawers and sweeps his robe around his shoulders. “We must make our escape now.”

“I’m required to rat on you.” Ah honest, honest Caleb. He’s now Mace’s favorite of his lineage.

“Padawan, I will need you to delay your report.” Mace’s face is perfectly somber as befitting his rank. Caleb copies him, and his mimicry is _much_ better than the one he tries of Depa’s pout. Mace tucks him affectionately under his arm and offers a bribe. “I have a number of my less reputable contacts I should meet tonight. You may report to your Master after you have accompanied me.”

Dex, Mace thinks, and maybe a few shop owners he knows in that neighborhood. Regardless of Caleb’s utter thrill at the thought of _going on a real undercover mission_ , Mace is hardly going to drag the boy through some of the actual filth of Coruscant. Dex’s street is just seedy enough and littered with enough miscreants after dark to suffice as exciting to a preteen, especially as sheltered as Ponds and Depa and Commander Grey have managed to keep him, given the war.

And bonus Mace can get a plate-sized bantha burger without Depa and Ponds both fussing about his cholesterol.

Mace can feel the edges of his awareness of Depa, feels her shifting, wondering what could have Caleb radiating that kind of mischievous glee. She must know something isn’t going according to plan.

“Master’s coming,” Caleb tattles, his bond with her far stronger. “Up the lift. And Ponds is cutting off the stairs.”

“Very well,” Mace declares with his own brand of pageantry. He throws wide the windows. “Then we must adapt.”

Coruscant wind snatches at their robes and whips the pale cream curtains about them. Depa’s annoyed ‘Master _don’t you dare_ ’ is neatly drowned out by never-too-distant blare of traffic and Caleb’s own whoop of Force-bright delight.

Mace grips him, and together they leap.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Loth-Cats and Loth-Rats](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25399498) by [TessaDoesThings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TessaDoesThings/pseuds/TessaDoesThings)




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